Finding Hope in Hard Places: A Reflection from Bethlehem

January 2025

Embrace’s new Lent Study Guide “Hope in Hard Places”, looks at stories of steadfast faith, hope and trust found in the Bible and reflects on what God’s transformational love can mean for our world today.

In these painful realities, the words from Revelation 6:10, “How long, Sovereign Lord…”, have resonated deeply with me over the past few years. They have offered me hope, especially during the 15 months of genocide in Gaza. Witnessing the daily destruction of a community of 2 million people, feeling anxious for friends and former students in Gaza, and hearing of the deaths of some is heartbreaking. It also reminds me of the lamentation from Jeremiah 31:15:

“A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”

This lamentation is for the thousands of children and women who have been killed. Lamenting and, at the same time, feeling anger amidst the silence and compliance of world powers, the mainstream media, most global church leaders, the double standards of Western powers, and the inability to enforce a ceasefire have driven me to find comfort in the Book of Revelation. This book, written for people in distress, assures me that the evil empires of today will face God’s judgement. The voices of the innocent, created in God’s image, are heard and have special access to God. In this way, the lamentation of Jeremiah transforms into hope and restoration.

Children pick through the rubble of houses in Gaza, April 2024. (Credit: Hosny Salah, Pixabay)

Another source of hope comes from the extraordinary actions of ordinary people in Gaza: rushing to bombed houses to save others from the rubble, medical teams risking their lives to help, journalists reporting despite being targeted, and international aid organisations leaving their homes and loved ones to assist.

I find hope in the testimonies of the Church in Gaza, specifically the leadership of Bishop Alexius of Gaza and Father Silas Habibi. Both remained at St Porphyrius Orthodox Church in Gaza, refusing to leave. They served their community of Christians and Muslims who sought refuge at the church, assisting their neighbours. The bishop and the priest raised funds to shelter and feed the refugees in the church, providing medicine as well. Father Silas risked his life walking to a dangerous area to bring flour to feed starving people. Even when animal food was the only available source for the people, the bishop and priest stayed up all night trying to make bread for the community.

Food distribution at St Porphyrius Church, Gaza, during the recent war.

The greatest sign of hope and faith, for me, came when they celebrated Sabt al-Nour (Saturday of Light in Arabic), an indigenous Palestinian tradition that commemorates Jesus Christ descending to Hades and offering the good news to the dead. Despite the horrific situation and their lament, they celebrated the goodness and mercy of Christ in the open space of the church courtyard, amidst the war. It is precisely in these times and through people in seemingly hopeless situations that hope is found, akin to the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ.

Amidst our collective lament, we should embrace our mandate to be witnesses, wherever we may be and with whatever gifts and talents we have, to the stubborn hope seen in the people of Gaza. Let us all embrace this hope and bear testimony to it.